


Clownfish

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Genderswitch, Other, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-22
Updated: 2007-05-22
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not the first time Fuji's changed himself for Tezuka's sake. It's just the most startling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clownfish

**Author's Note:**

> Genderswitch.

**Clownfish**

Kunimitsu had always suspected that it was playing with fire to let Inui inflict juice after juice on the tennis team, but he never expected one of Inui's vile concoctions to turn Fuji into a girl.

Nonetheless, Fuji pulled the Regulars off to the side one morning before practice could get going and announced that he'd woken up a girl, and wasn't that interesting?

Oishi freaked out and both Kaidoh and Momoshiro spent a lot of time blushing. Kikumaru spent entirely too much time prodding Fuji's chest curiously while Inui muttered and shook his head and made notes, wondering whether it had been the yerba mate or something else.

All Kunimitsu said was, "Can you still play tennis?"

Fuji smiled at that, and promptly dragged Echizen onto the court and demolished him in straight sets to prove that yes, even though he had breasts now and presumably no penis (no one dared to ask him to pull down his shorts to prove it, and Kunimitsu thanked the gods one more time for Oishi's ability to rein Kikumaru in), he could still play tennis.

Echizen adjusted his cap after his defeat, disgruntled, and said, "This is what you get for putting weird things in your mouth, senpai."

Because of _course_ it had been the juice Fuji had tasted the day before (and pronounced "Lovely, but don't you think it needs more depth?" before he'd asked for seconds) that had done this.

Fuji only smiled at that while Momoshiro choked and sputtered, and Kaidoh turned so red that it was a wonder his nose didn't start bleeding then and there.

And life went on. Fuji's voice had always hovered in the honeyed alto-tenor range, and he was slightly built so his chest didn't show--maybe he bound it, for all Kunimitsu knew. Everyone tacitly agreed to give him privacy while he was in the clubroom, and it became the tennis team's secret that their tensai had gone from being a boy to being a girl. Not even Murozono-sensei knew, and aside from having to wait longer after practice to lock up, everything seemed set for them to repeat the magical year they'd won Nationals in junior high.

Kunimitsu figured later that he really should have known better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cherry blossoms finished and the trees turned green, and spring bled into summer. As the weather turned hot, they abandoned their track pants for shorts and their jerseys spent more time draped over benches or left in lockers than they did actually being worn.

Inui tried formula after formula on Fuji, trying to reverse the gender switch, and Fuji obliged him by trying each one, patient and complimentary ("Is that guajillo, Inui? I thought so. It's very nice.") but he didn't turn back. Instead his face turned rounder, the angles of his cheekbones and his jaw softening, and his lashes turned thicker. A careful observer could even look past the deliberately loose shorts and looser t-shirt to see that Fuji's figure was changing, too, hips subtly broader, waist nipped in just a bit. The only thing that didn't change was how he moved. Fuji had always been graceful.

Not that he was actually looking, or that was what Kunimitsu told himself, and called for the first years to stop slacking off at their swing drills, but he didn't actually look away until Fuji caught him staring and gave him a slow smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June brought Prefecturals, which ended in a drawn-out fight with Hyoutei that went all the way to Singles One and a tie-break that had Atobe smirking at him from across the net (_Haven't we done this before?_) even as he shook Kunimitsu's hand and congratulated him on his win.

Three years did a lot to ease the sting of old losses and old pain, though, so he went along with the rest of the team for sushi to celebrate the win. Kawamura's father even let him come out from behind the bar to sit with them for a while, and it was like old times until Fuji leaned against his arm and rested his fingers on Kunimitsu's shoulder. "Everything okay?" he asked, too quietly for anyone else to hear under the noise of Momoshiro and Kaidoh's desultory squabbling.

And that was how Kunimitsu discovered first-hand that actually, Fuji _didn't_ bind his chest at all, judging by the softness pressed against Kunimitsu's arm.

"Just fine," Kunimitsu said, and picked up his tea to keep from having to say anything else.

Fuji lingered for a moment too long before he sat back, looking satisfied. "Good," he said, and reached for another wasabi roll.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June also brought rain, lots of it, and practices that had to be held indoors more often than not. All of the sports clubs jostled with each other for the limited gym space. Kunimitsu spent too much of his time battling Hayamizu-kun from the sports team for a few extra minutes of practice time to pay much attention to Fuji until the day Fuji missed both the morning and afternoon practices.

Kunimitsu cornered Kikumaru, who told him that Fuji hadn't been in classes, either. "It's probably just a cold or something," he said, stretching lazily. "He was complaining about his stomach hurting last night."

"You don't suppose it's--" Oishi said, and let his voice trail off meaningfully.

Kikumaru's eyes went wide for a moment, and then he counted something off on his fingers. "About eight weeks," he said. "Huh. Maybe it's a good thing he stayed home."

Oishi nodded. "Could be," he said. "You ready to go, Eiji?"

"Yeah, sure, let me grab my bag," Kikumaru said. "I'm hungry, wanna stop somewhere?"

"I would, but I'm kind of broke," Oishi said as they moved off, and neither of them seemed to notice that Kunimitsu hadn't followed a word of that cryptic exchange, except for the part where they seemed to think Fuji was skipping school deliberately.

Kunimitsu frowned. They couldn't have that, not with Regionals just around the corner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuji's mother looked surprised to see him. "Tezuka-kun," she said. "What can I do for you?"

"I came by to see Fuji," Tezuka said. "If that's all right?"

"He's feeling a bit under the weather," Fuji-san said, and smiled. "It'll cheer him up to see you, though. Please, come in." Tezuka closed his umbrella and came in, and toed off his sneakers. "If you'll just wait down here for a moment, I have something you can take up to him," she said, and left him at the foot of the stairs to wait.

It sounded like Fuji _was_ sick after all, and Kunimitsu frowned. There was homework he could be doing instead of making this trip.

Fuji-san came back after a few minutes and handed him a plate of brownies and--a hot water bottle? In this weather? "Here you go," she said. "He's the first door on the left."

"Thank you," Kunimitsu told her, resigning himself to a quick visit, and made his way up to Fuji's room. He knocked, and let himself in when he heard Fuji's voice calling that he could come in.

The room was dim, the only light coming in from the window, and there was no sign of Fuji himself. "Are you sure you won't kill me, Kaasan?" asked the mountain of blankets on the bed.

"We need you for singles at Regionals, so no," Kunimitsu said.

The cocoon of blankets twitched, and a bare arm emerged to flail at it, until Fuji had untangled himself and sat up. His hair was tangled and his face was pale and damp with sweat, and he was wearing a most un-Fuji-like lacy tank top. Kunimitsu snapped his eyes to Fuji's face and kept them there, even though Fuji didn't look very pleased to see him. "What," he asked, voice dead level, "are you doing here, Tezuka?"

"You missed practice," Kunimitsu said, and held out the hot water bottle. "Your mother said to give you this."

Fuji didn't look any less annoyed, but he took it anyway and curled around it. "Thanks."

"Are you--" Kunimitsu hesitated, 'okay' would be foolish when Fuji manifestly _wasn't_. "--going to be out sick for long?"

"Four or five days at the most." Fuji grimaced, hunching over the bottle. "Less than that if I'm lucky."

"That long?" Kunimitsu frowned, and then an awful thought occurred to him. "Are you contagious?"

Fuji stared at him. "Am I--contagious?" he repeated, and then broke into laughter, which was better than the glare, even if Kunimitsu suspected that Fuji was laughing at _him_. "No, I'm not contagious."

"Are you sure?" Kunimitsu asked, not entirely at ease. He couldn't afford to be sick right now; Oishi was much too nice and wouldn't fight Hayamizu-kun for the gym.

Fuji snorted. "I'm bleeding, Tezuka. That doesn't mean I have cooties."

"You're--oh. _Oh._" Kunimitsu felt the heat creeping up his neck, and willed it back down. "I--see." That explained the hot water bottle, and the brownies too. "I... here." He thrust the plate at Fuji.

"Just put them on the desk," Fuji said. "I'll have them when my stomach settles." He frowned, and looked down. "_If_ it settles."

"Ah. I'm--sure it will." Kunimitsu took a step back. "I'll just be going, then."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine for Regionals," Fuji told him, which brought Kunimitsu up short. "That's what you care about, isn't it?" Fuji's expression was oddly vulnerable in the grey rain-light from his window.

Kunimitsu hesitated a moment, and then pulled out Fuji's desk chair and sat. "It's one of the things I care about," he said.

That strange look slid off Fuji's face. "I see," he said, and then he was back to his normal smile. "Have a brownie, if you want."

Kunimitsu took one out of politeness, and nibbled on it--it was bittersweet and rich, and he swallowed the bite, conscious of Fuji's eyes on him. "It's good," he said.

"I'll let Kaasan know you liked them," Fuji said. "She makes them for Neesan, too. Normally I don't ever get to have any, since Neesan's like a dragon when she's PMSing."

Oh. Kunimitsu set the brownie back down again, and opened his mouth to change the subject by asking what Fuji thought Rikkai would be like this year. What came out instead was, "What's it like?"

He was lucky, and Fuji didn't take him too literally. Fuji's smile flickered. "Mostly the same," he said. "Not unpleasant, except for this." He plucked at the water bottle. "The rest of it's just--externalities, I suppose."

That made enough sense. Fuji was still Fuji, even with longer eyelashes and curves where they shouldn't be. Kunimitsu nodded. After a moment, he asked, "How far do you think Kirihara's come since last year?" he asked.

Fuji's smile was odd for a moment, before he shrugged, and said, "Not so far that Echizen or I can't beat the pants off him," he said, and they talked about tennis for the rest of Kunimitsu's visit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuji was back at practice the next morning, smiling easily and shrugging off his absence without explaining it. Kunimitsu caught Oishi and Kikumaru exchanging significant looks and remembered then that they had sisters. No wonder they'd known.

He assigned them ten laps out of pique, and ignored the way Fuji laughed into his sleeve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kunimitsu waited for Fuji to finish changing, since someone had to lock up after him, and it was Kunimitsu's turn that day. "Sorry to keep you waiting," Fuji said when he breezed out of the clubroom.

If Kunimitsu hadn't known better, he would have been able to mistake Fuji for a perfectly normal high school boy when he was wearing his school uniform. "I thought you said four or five days?" he asked, and turned the key in the lock.

"The ibuprofen started working after you left." Fuji shrugged, careless. "Thank goodness. I hope it's not that bad next month."

Kunimitsu frowned. "Inui will have it fixed by next month."

Fuji looked at him for a moment. "Of course he will," he said, like he was soothing a small child. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tezuka." He raised his umbrella and walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June melted into July, bringing Regionals closer. Inui grew increasingly harried and stalked through practice, muttering distractedly and offering Fuji different juices. "This will definitely work," he said, about the one with tamarind paste, and "This should work," about the one with asafoetida, and "Why isn't this _working_?" about the one with chervil.

Fuji smiled for each one, a Mona Lisa curve of his lips that would have driven Kunimitsu crazy, if he had been Inui. "Don't worry," Fuji told Inui, "just keep at it. You'll find something, I'm sure of it."

Inui just shook his head and walked away, muttering.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week before the final round of Regionals, Kikumaru said, "Your hair's getting long, Fujiko."

Fuji pushed it out of his eyes, and continued watching the rally between Momoshiro and Kaidoh. "I was thinking of growing it out," he said absently.

Everyone within hearing distance froze for a split second, and then Momoshiro shouted as he smashed a point past Kaidoh, and things carried on as before.

But it wasn't like before; something had shifted in that instant. Inui no longer looked quite so harassed, and no one said a word when Fuji took to pulling his hair back with a pair of small butterfly clips. It fell around his face in a wispy arch that Kunimitsu supposed someone might find flattering, if they cared about that sort of thing.

He also missed the Friday before they met Rikkai in the finals. Kunimitsu hesitated, wondering whether he should visit or not; before he could decide, his phone rang. It was Fuji's number on the display. "I'll be fine," Fuji announced, when he answered. "I'll play Sunday and win." He paused, and then added, "In case you were wondering."

"That's good to hear," Kunimitsu said.

"I thought that's what you would say." Fuji paused for a moment. "Tezuka. If we win Regionals, will you do me a favor?"

"What kind of favor?" Kunimitsu asked, wary of Fuji's tone and his sense of humor.

"A simple one, I promise," Fuji said. "Will you?"

Kunimitsu weighed the request. "I suppose," he said, after a moment.

"Mmm, good. I'll see you Sunday," Fuji said, and hung up without saying anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuji was as good as his word, and wore Rikkai's Kirihara down over a long match that ended in a tie-break that left them both dripping with sweat and made room for Echizen to face Sanada down in Singles Two. "Good match," Kunimitsu told him, when Fuji came back to the bench, and handed him a bottle of water.

"Thanks," Fuji told him, and promptly poured half of the water over his face. It spilled through his already soaked hair and half of it went down his shirt, plastering it to his skin.

Kunimitsu looked for half a second too long before he tore his eyes away, and stared fixedly at Echizen and Sanada shaking hands on the court.

This was getting ridiculous. Fuji needed to go back to normal, and the sooner the better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kunimitsu waited for Fuji to claim the favor he'd promised, but Fuji didn't say anything about it. Fuji stayed himself, still female, as Inui exhausted his list of peculiar ingredients and began at the top again, adjusting ratios and creating new combinations, and everyone worked like maniacs, training for Nationals.

And the days slipped by.

"If we win Nationals, will you do me a favor, Tezuka?"

Kunimitsu paused in the act of locking the clubhouse door. _What do you mean, 'if'?_ he wanted to ask, or maybe, _What kind of favor?_ But when he looked, Fuji was as earnest as he ever got, eyes dark and unsmiling, so Tezuka looked back at the door. "If I can," he said.

"It won't be anything difficult," Fuji promised him.

Kunimitsu pocketed his key ring and looked at him, but Fuji didn't elaborate any further. Instead, he tucked a damp tendril of hair behind his ear and smiled. "See you in the morning, Tezuka," he said, and walked away.

Kunimitsu was sure that his hips hadn't used to move like that.

He shook his head to clear it. Nationals were five days away. There was no time to be foolish between now and then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nationals were in Kyoto that year, which mean a train ride there with his team, all of whom were wound tight with adrenaline, and a room large enough to fit all eight of them once they got there. Oishi caught at Kunimitsu's sleeve as they hauled their bags into the room. "Is this a good idea, Tezuka?" he asked softly, and his eyes flicked to where Fuji and Kikumaru had their heads together, laughing at something.

Kunimitsu chose to ignore his concern. "If there was a way to keep them from causing trouble, I would have found it by now," he said. "If they get too bad, I'll make them run laps around the hotel."

Oishi opened his mouth, probably to explain that he hadn't quite meant _that_, but Momoshiro put his bag down on Kaidoh's foot just then, and the ensuing scuffle distracted everyone.

He regretted not listening to Oishi later, when Fuji came back from the bathroom wearing his pajamas. They were loose and long-sleeved and still managed to convey (despite the boxy frame of them) that there were curves under that decorous blue-checked cotton.

Kunimitsu looked around for the first sign of trouble so that he could stop it. Oishi was yawning and Kikumaru was jabbering at Momoshiro. Kaidoh had already picked out a futon and was stretching out near Inui, who was hunched over a notebook, probably looking over the data for their first match in the morning. The only one who seemed to be taking any notice of Fuji at all was Echizen, who looked at Kunimitsu and smirked. He mouthed something at Kunimitsu.

Kunimitsu ignored Echizen and his _Mada mada dane, buchou,_ and went to brush his teeth, unaccountably irritated. When he came back, it was to a room of teenaged boys flinging pillows and shouting. Before he could yell at them, he took a pillow to the face, which was possibly even more quelling than actually shouting, because everyone went quiet and wide-eyed as he tossed it aside.

They were probably waiting for him to assign laps.

"Go to sleep," Tezuka told them, and chose the futon farthest from Fuji for himself. It was next to Momoshiro's, who snored, and Tezuka resigned himself to a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuji was distracted at dinner the night before the final round, and he pulled Oishi aside on the walk up from the hotel's restaurant to the room. Oishi shook his head, and Fuji frowned before moving to Kaidoh, who shrugged. Fuji went from Kaidoh to Inui, and they spoke for a bit, but Inui didn't have what Fuji was looking for either, and so Fuji finally came to Kunimitsu. "Tezuka," he murmured, "I don't suppose you packed painkillers?"

"No," Kunimitsu said. "Why? Do you have a headache?"

Fuji rolled his eyes, impatient. "For pity's sake, Tezuka, I don't get headaches. Use your brain."

Kunimitsu did, and didn't like the conclusion he reached. Fuji hadn't missed any days of school this month--so far. "That's--_now_?" he hissed. "Fuji, you can't--"

"It's not like I have a choice about it," Fuji snapped, and then he bit his lip. "You were my last hope. If you don't have anything, no one else will. Damn it."

"You're not going to be able to play tomorrow, are you?" Kunimitsu's mind raced ahead; if he put Momoshiro in doubles with Kaidoh, that would free Inui up for singles, and--

"I'll play," Fuji said, interrupting his thoughts.

Kunimitsu looked at him. "Will you be able to win?"

"I'll play, and I'll win." Fuji lifted his chin. "If you can play with a shoulder injury, then I can damn well play through a few stupid cramps.

Fuji knew as well as he did that Kunimitsu hadn't won by playing injured, but when Kunimitsu held his eyes, Fuji didn't flinch. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," Fuji said.

Kunimitsu looked away. "...fine."

Fuji nodded, short and quick. "If you'll excuse me," he said, quietly. "Kaasan says sometimes a hot bath helps."

"Good luck," Kunimitsu said.

He wavered for a few moments after Fuji left the room, and then went to his bag and pulled out his wallet. "I'm going out," he told Oishi.

"We're not supposed to go out after--" Oishi began, but whatever he saw on Kunimitsu's face shut him up. Oishi sighed. "Don't let Murozono-sensei catch you," he said.

Kunimitsu snorted, and went out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he came back, Fuji was sitting in the corner, knees drawn up to his chest, ignoring the antics of the rest of the room. He had a book, but it didn't look like he was reading it, and Kunimitsu suspected he wasn't interrupting anything at all when he came over. "Here," he said, and held out the plastic bag.

"What's this?" Fuji took it, and peered inside.

"Relying on luck is sloppy thinking," Kunimitsu said, pinpointing the exact moment that Fuji realized what he'd bought by the way the pinched look of his lips eased up.

"So it is," Fuji said, pulling out the little bottle of ibuprofen and prying at the cap. He shook out two capsules, paused and looked at the label, and shook out two more. Kunimitsu suppressed a wince when Fuji dry-swallowed them. "Thanks, Tezuka."

It was on the tip of Kunimitsu's tongue to say that it was nothing, and all he wanted was for Fuji to be in top condition tomorrow, but he didn't. "You're welcome," he said, as Fuji opened up the bar of chocolate and broke off a piece. "Try to get some sleep."

One corner of Fuji's mouth ticked up. "You too," he said. "It's quieter on this side of the room, you know."

Kunimitsu looked at where Momoshiro was having an impromptu wrestling match with Echizen, and then back at Fuji. "You know, I hadn't noticed," he said.

Fuji just laughed, and when Kunimitsu sat down, offered him a piece of chocolate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were a few days left of August and summer vacation when Fuji called him. "So," he said, light and breezy, "we won Regionals. And Nationals."

Tezuka put down his pencil, and looked at the medal hanging on its peg, twin to the one he'd won three years ago. "We did," he said. "What was the favor you wanted?"

"Favors," Fuji corrected him. "I asked you twice."

Kunimitsu felt his eyebrows drawing together, but he supposed it was true. "Favors," he said, after a moment. "What did you want?"

"For the first one... spend a day with me," Fuji said, and then he added, "Not playing tennis."

"...is that all?" Kunimitsu asked, wondering where the catch was.

"That's all," Fuji said. "I'll even make the plans so you don't have to. Just show up Saturday and pick me up. Around two, does that sound good?"

Kunimitsu thought it over, and couldn't see any reason to say no. "Two will be fine."

"I'll see you then," Fuji chirped, and hung up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The catch turned out to be Fuji himself, who was the one to answer the door when Kunimitsu knocked. "You're right on time," he said, and stepped into a pair of sandals, skirt floating around his knees. When he crouched to do up the buckles, Kunimitsu had to look away to keep from seeing down the front of Fuji's sleeveless top. "I was thinking--there's a photography exhibit downtown that I was wanting to go see. We could go do that, and get something to eat after." He stood and slung a purse over one bare shoulder. "Is something wrong, Tezuka?"

His eyes were half-challenging when Kunimitsu met them. "Nothing," Kunimitsu said. "What kind of photography?"

Fuji smiled (was he wearing lip gloss? surely his lips weren't normally that pink and shiny) and shrugged. "All kinds," he said, and started down the walk. "I'm sure there'll be something that you like."

Tezuka followed after him, less certain of that, but it was only for one day, and he'd promised.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuji paid his own entrance fee to the gallery, and the bored attendant behind the admissions counter gave Kunimitsu a curious look when Kunimitsu bought his own ticket. Kunimitsu shrugged it off, and spent the next two and a half hours trailing after Fuji, letting the jargon about apertures and shutter speed wash over him unheeded.

"Did you see anything you liked?" Fuji asked him later, when they'd seen all the galleries, and had found a place to get lunch.

"I liked his action shots," Kunimitsu said, and took a bite of his sandwich. When he swallowed, he added, "They were... vivid."

"He's very good with people," Fuji murmured. "I'd swear some of his photographs could speak to you." He eyed his sandwich and took the top piece of bread off.

"Yes," Kunimitsu said, because that was it, exactly. "Which ones did you like?"

Fuji picked through his sandwich, and didn't look up as he said, "The black and whites."

Ah. He should have known. Fuji had gone quiet in that room, and had moved from photograph to photograph slowly, eyes distant as he took in the shot of the two toddlers with their arms around each other, and the mother holding and infant, and the elderly couple sitting side-by-side. They'd spent the longest in that room, and when they'd come out, that was when Fuji had announced he was ready for lunch, even though they hadn't been through the whole exhibit yet.

"Those were very good," Kunimitsu agreed.

"Yes," Fuji said, picking the onions off his sandwich and setting them aside. "I wonder how he managed to fit that much emotion into his film." He rebuilt his sandwich, messier than it had been before, and took a bite, chewing meditatively. "I was thinking of going to the park after this. It's a nice day for it, and there's a good one nearby."

"All right," Kunimitsu said, and they finished their meal in peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until after the confusion with the check (the waiter brought one, and gave him an odd frown when Fuji claimed it) that what was happening caught up with Kunimitsu, and that was only because of the wolf whistle that trailed after them as they walked past a group of middle school boys playing soccer.

Kunimitsu was the only person today who knew that Fuji was _Fuji_.

Fuji laughed at the wolf whistle and called, "You're a hundred years too early," before steering Kunimitsu away from the soccer field to the shady paths under the trees. "You all right, Tezuka?"

"I'm fine," Kunimitsu said, as it dawned on him that he was the only person who knew that this _wasn't_ a date. He eyed Fuji, sidelong, and wondered if that included Fuji himself.

"You sure?" Fuji's eyes were laughing. "You looked a little funny for a moment."

"I'm fine," Kunimitsu repeated. "Does that happen often?"

"Hm?" Fuji blinked, and then laughed. "Oh, you mean that?" He jerked his head at the soccer players. "Not too often. I don't go out like this--" he twitched at his skirt "--very much."

"Doesn't it bother you?" Kunimitsu asked.

"Not really." Fuji chuckled. "They're just being silly. It's kind of a compliment, don't you think? And it's not like they're the perverts in the subway." He snorted. "Not that _they_ try to grope you more than once, if you know what you're doing."

Kunimitsu turned that over, and decided that he really didn't want to know what that meant, not when Fuji's smile had turned nasty like that. "I... see."

"Why do you ask?" Fuji said. The nastiness slid out of his smile, and left only mischief behind. "Does it bother you?"

_Yes_, Kunimitsu started to say, and then shook his head. "Why should it?" If Fuji didn't mind being leered at, it was none of his concern.

Fuji's smile faded away. "I wonder," he said, and gestured at the path ahead. "I think there's some tennis courts, if we go that way. Want to see if there's anyone there we can laugh at?"

"It's not nice to laugh at other players," Kunimitsu said, and followed him down the path anyway.

There were a few people playing, none of them horribly enough to warrant laughter and all of them with gaps in their form wide enough to make Kunimitsu itch to call out corrections. He was on the verge of doing it in spite of not being their captain when Fuji decided he wanted ice cream, and insisted that Kunimitsu go get it since Fuji had paid for their sandwiches.

It was possible that Fuji knew him entirely too well, he thought as he handed money over in exchange for the cones.

"Thank you, Tezuka," Fuji murmured when he brought them back, and took a happy lick of his lemon ice.

Kunimitsu looked away from the way Fuji's tongue swiped over the cone, and concentrated on his own ice cream. "You're welcome."

Fuji smiled. "Want to keep going, since you can't help them play?" he asked.

Kunimitsu glanced at the tennis game, where the two players were trying (and failing) to have a rally. "That might be for the best."

"There's a sort of botanical garden around here somewhere. Let's see if we can find it," Fuji said, and led him away from the tennis courts.

The botanical garden was a small one, but it was well tended and lush even in the heat of August. Fuji led them through all the paths as they ate their ice cream, exclaiming over the graceful fall of willow tree ("I should have brought my camera," he said, and looked at his tiny purse ruefully) and then made them stop for a while and sit on a bench overlooking the koi pond.

"They look nice," Fuji said, extending a sandaled foot and wiggling it, "but they're not very good for walking on."

"Then why not wear something sensible?" Kunimitsu asked him.

Fuji looked at him. "Sneakers wouldn't go with the skirt, Tezuka."

"And again, why aren't you wearing something sensible?" Kunimitsu repeated.

He should have known better; he never had been much good at teasing, or so he told himself when Fuji pressed his lips together. "Maybe I wanted to look nice," Fuji said, and looked away. "I can do that now, can't I? Since Nationals are over, and you don't need me to play tennis?"

"I've never noticed that my needing you for tennis has stopped you from doing anything before," Kunimitsu said.

"That's because you're good at not noticing things," Fuji said, hands twisting in the fabric of his skirt. He shook his head before Kunimitsu said anything. "Never mind." He gave Kunimitsu a smile. "How's your summer homework coming?"

Kunimitsu had known Fuji for too many years not to have learned a few of his smiles; that one was brittle and false. "I'm just about finished," he said, careful. "How's yours?"

Fuji sighed. "Haven't even started." He chuckled. "But it's a tradition of mine to do it all in the last minute." He held up a hand. "I know, I know, careless of me."

"I wasn't going to say it," Kunimitsu told him, and Fuji laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the sun started to sink low in the sky, Fuji sighed and said it was time he headed home, and they headed for the subway together. Kunimitsu kept his strides slow to spare Fuji's feet, and when they boarded the train, positioned himself between Fuji and the rest of the crowd. If Fuji noticed, he didn't say anything.

"We've had a nice day, haven't we?" Fuji said, as they neared the corner where Kunimitsu would turn for his own home.

"We have," Kunimitsu agreed, and surprised himself a little by meaning it. "Thank you."

Fuji huffed a little. "Why are you thanking me? You're the one doing me a favor, Tezuka."

"That doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it," Kunimitsu said, and slowed his steps even more as they came to the corner. "What did you have in mind for your Nationals favor?"

Fuji stopped, and looked at him. "What makes you think I have anything in mind yet?" he asked.

"It's you," Kunimitsu said. "I've never known you not to think five steps in advance."

Fuji laughed, but it sounded a little forced. "I suppose that's true," he said, and tapped his chin. "It's a favor for winning Nationals. It should be bigger, don't you think?"

"I thought you said that your favors wouldn't be difficult," Kunimitsu told him.

"They aren't," Fuji said. His eyes seemed very dark in the gathering twilight. "Did you want me to collect both today?"

"Can you do that?" Kunimitsu asked. "Your Regionals favor took all afternoon."

"Oh, I think I can," Fuji said, and tipped his head to the side. "I may as well," he said, giving Kunimitsu the feeling that he was talking to himself. He reached out and closed one tennis-calloused hand around Kunimitsu's wrist. "Here," he said, and tugged Kunimitsu off the main thoroughfare to Kunimitsu's side street, and edged him up against a wall. "Hold still."

"What are you--" Kunimitsu began, but Fuji's hands were settling on his shoulders, holding him still. Fuji pressed close, raising himself up on his toes and sealing his mouth to Kunimitsu's. Fuji's mouth was wet, and Kunimitsu froze at the feeling soft breasts pressed against his chest and the warmth of Fuji's hips against his.

Fuji lingered for a moment, and then stepped back when Kunimitsu didn't return the kiss. "So," she said, and there was just enough light left that Kunimitsu could see the muscles move in her throat as she swallowed. "It's that it's me, and not that you like girls better than boys." She laughed a little. "I guess that's that. Thank you for today, Tezuka-kun." She bowed, more formal than he'd ever seen her, and walked away.

She had turned the corner before Kunimitsu could make his frozen brain react, and then he pushed away from the wall and sprinted after her.

Thank goodness for ridiculous sandals after all, he thought, because Fuji hadn't been able to keep up that quick pace for long, and was limping homewards slowly. "Fuji," he said, and caught her hand.

"What is it, Tezuka-kun?" she asked, distant and polite. "My family will be expecting me for dinner."

"The problem with you is that you're five steps ahead of everyone else, and you forget to let the rest of us catch up with you," Kunimitsu said, all in a rush, not trusting her to let him hold her long enough to say what he needed to.

"I think I've waited plenty, Tezuka-kun," Fuji told him, still chilly, but she hadn't taken her hand out of his yet. "Two years as a boy and four months as girl. What more do you want?"

"Thirty more seconds," Kunimitsu said. "Please."

"You're pretty confident of yourself," Fuji said, but something was moving underneath the ice in her eyes. "Fine. Dinner can wait for another minute, but you'd better talk fast."

"Thank you," Kunimitsu said, and slipped an arm around her waist.

Fuji made a startled sound at that, and some of the stiffness went out of her posture. "Tezuka--"

"Hold still," he said, and kissed her, tasting the last of her lip gloss as the smell of her perfume filled his nose. Fuji was too contrary for that, but since her idea of moving was to slide her arms around Kunimitsu's neck and kiss back, lips parting for him as her fingers slid into his hair, Kunimitsu supposed he didn't mind.

It was considerably more than thirty seconds later when he pulled back a bit. Fuji's cheeks were flushed. "Well," she said. "I suppose you make a good argument."

"I can keep going," he offered, fingers stroking over the silky fabric of her top, following the definition of the muscles of her back.

"No," she said, a bit breathless, "I think I'm convinced." Fuji tipped her head back and looked at him. "So. Should I tell Inui to stop fussing with his juices?"

Kunimitsu considered that. "If you want," he said, after a moment.

Fuji sighed. "So you _do_ like girls better than boys," she murmured.

"No," Kunimitsu said. "I like you." He hesitated. "It just takes a lot to get my attention."

"Isn't _that_ the truth," Fuji muttered, but her tone was light enough. "You wouldn't mind it if I woke up a boy again tomorrow morning?"

"Not at all," Kunimitsu said.

Fuji smiled. "Well," she said, "maybe Inui will get lucky." She leaned up and kissed him again, soft and wet. "So are you going to come home with me for dinner, or are we going to stand here being disgraceful in public all night long?"

"Dinner sounds good," Kunimitsu said.

Fuji's smile turned wider, and she tangled her hand with his as they started walking again. "Oh, good," she said. "Yuuta's home for the weekend, and it's been a while since I've made his head explode."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was the only one not surprised when Fuji showed up on the first day of the fall term back to normal, face lean and the sway gone from his hips.

Inui gesticulated and asked question after question about the foods Fuji had eaten over the summer break. Fuji smiled and deflected them all with little shrugs. "I don't know," he said, "maybe the effect just wore off?"

"But it's not _logical_!" Inui protested.

Fuji caught Kunimitsu looking at him, and the smile he gave Inui was full of secrets. "Sometimes life isn't logical," he said, serene. "I'll answer the rest of your questions later, Inui." He picked up his books and brushed past, and fell into step with Kunimitsu.

"It wasn't the juice at all, was it?" Kunimitsu asked, once they'd passed out of Inui's hearing.

Fuji laughed. "I hope you don't expect me to actually answer that," he said.

Kunimitsu snorted. "I don't think you really need to."

Fuji looked at him from the corner of his eye. "You don't mind?" he asked, after a moment.

Kunimitsu brushed a hand against Fuji's, casual enough to have looked like a mistake to someone who didn't know any better. "No," he said. "I don't mind at all."

"Mm," Fuji said. "_Good._" And when his fingers brushed against and twined with Kunimitsu's, Kunimitsu didn't let go.

**end**


End file.
